


Self-Made Man

by themadlurker



Category: Dollhouse
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-26
Updated: 2009-07-26
Packaged: 2017-10-08 05:11:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themadlurker/pseuds/themadlurker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Topher is very good at what he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self-Made Man

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Dollhouse Ficathon](http://community.livejournal.com/doll_ficathon/) for [](http://xfirefly9x.livejournal.com/profile)[**xfirefly9x**](http://xfirefly9x.livejournal.com/)'s prompt: "There's an accident. Topher is imprinted with another personality on top of his own. (gen)" Thanks to [](http://acinogan.livejournal.com/profile)[**acinogan**](http://acinogan.livejournal.com/) for the beta. Any mistakes that remain are the result of my own stubborness.

The disks are arranged in a complex system based on relative attributes of portions of the brain. Or, as Topher would say, you've got your violent types, your seducer types, your brainy types, so on and so forth and you don't want to get those mixed up. See, before you can even think about doing a mix-and-match job on people's brainwaves, you've got to know your material components. What Topher does once he gets the disks loaded onto the computer is all about the patterns and the numbers, but there's an invisible step that happens first, inside Topher's brain: a selection that's almost instinctual, a memory that guides him to one disk or another, knowing just what pieces he needs to pick and choose. There's a computer file, of course, a cross-referenced database of brains, but Topher never needs to check that to know which mind he's looking for any more than he needs to check the file number to find its location on the rack. It's a point of pride, in fact, to know that he can reach out blindfolded and lay hands on exactly what he wants. So it's strange that there's one slot empty in the middle of a row, and even stranger that his eyes seem to skip past it when he looks over the array, humming with satisfaction. Or maybe not so strange, because no one else seems to notice it. After all, to anyone else's eyes, the gap looks like just another part of Topher's organized chaos. And to Topher's eyes, the gap... but then, Topher doesn't see a gap.

He doesn't see the third drawer of his filing cabinet, either, but that's alright, because it's empty. He knows this the same way he knows that every disk is in its place and none of the spaces are empty. Ivy doesn't know this, though, so when she goes through his desk looking for a mysteriously elusive bottle opener, she finds what looks like a blank, unlabelled disk lying in the bottom drawer.

Ever since the Alpha incident, Topher's had reason to wonder about what happens if you layer one personality on top of another. Or more specifically, about ways to avoid letting this happen. Not that he's planning to mention this to Adelle until he's absolutely, totally sure that it'll work - not that he isn't sure now, because he is, and he knows it'll work, but still, it can't hurt to do a little testing first, right? Of course, he'd never be so crazy as to actually experiment on himself, except that he does have this theory about reverse imprinting, and what happens if you use a blank disk to filter the imprint to limit the memory cache and avoid an overload, which he can't test properly on the dolls, because of the blank-state programming that needs to be left in place. Maybe if this works, he can fix some of the problems with that, too, make sure the dolls get a total reset. If his mind flicks briefly to Sierra, and the number of times he and Dr. Saunders have looked over her scans since the... incident... searching for signs of memory recurrence, then that's just because he's unsatisfied with having his work compromised. What he does is all about precision and control, and it bothers him when things don't work the way they should.

Honestly, he knows exactly what he's doing, so there's no danger at all. Ivy still doesn't look very convinced about how totally, completely safe the idea is, so with all the assurance of a genius who knows better than everyone else, Topher sits back in the chair and rattles out instructions.

There's a brief moment of disorientation as the chair does its thing, and then Ivy is peering down at him worriedly as if he's about to start waving knives around. She looks kind of funny upside down and Topher laughs. She only looks partly relieved though, and she won't get too close to him until Dr. Saunders has come in, told them they're both crazy for experimenting like this, but reluctantly admitted that Topher's brain waves are 100% Topher. He punches the air.

"Okay! Stage one, check! I think we can call that a success, yeah? Moving on...

"Now for this bit, I need you to do part two, because, well, I'll be a vegetable, basically, so you're going to have to reintegrate the personality. But don't worry, I've got a whole list of instructions — I always figured, hey, maybe I'll be unavailable and someone will need to run this thing, so what you've got here is basically a fool-proof, idiot-insured guide — you'll do fine. Just hook me up, and here we go!"  
Except they don't get around to hooking him up, because suddenly Victor (have to remember not to call him Victor anymore, Topher thinks) is standing at the door and there's work to be done. And then mousy little assistant girl goes and quivers out an explanation to the DeWitt, who suggests using a doll for the experiment — _total _misunderstanding of the scientific process going on there — and then puts the kibosh on the plan altogether.

"But listen!" he says, following her back to her office. "I've been thinking about it, and there is some massive potential here to, not just to treat the personalities as a kind of mental collage, but to do a... a sort of internal rearrangement of their brain chemistry. It's like, what I do, but only using one set of brain scans. Because, you see, if you know enough about an individual brain wave pattern, you should be able to edit it, tweak it to work the way you want it to."

DeWitt sits down behind her desk and gives him an expressionless stare. Topher folds his arms and waits for her answer.

"Ivy seemed to think you were working on a simple method to reduce the likelihood of a composite event. What do your theories have to do with that project?"

"It's not — it doesn't." Topher rubs at his temples. He's starting to get a headache trying to explain this, when it's so obvious. "It's just — that's what I was doing, in the chair. I was... I was over-writing. It's what we do for the dolls, but it's different, because it's a blank. The disk is a blank, but if I wanted to, it wouldn't have to be a blank. It could've been... something else, something different, a different version. You could rewrite people, but you'd have to do a complete wipe first, start with a blank, because otherwise it would be a composite event, but you can't create a composite with a blank, you don't, you get — if you add any wave form to a straight line, it's the same shape, there's nothing to add to it, there's no — somebody should stop that — there's an echo in the room, keep hearing what I say..."

And then Dr. Saunders is standing behind him, Saunders, Dr. Saunders, but it's Whiskey, whiskey-tango-foxtrot... she catches him as he blacks out, before he can hit the ground. She and Adelle DeWitt share a worried glance over the top of his unconscious head.

When he wakes up again, Ivy is right side up, but not smiling, just looking anxious.

"Topher? Is that — is that you, Topher?"

"Hey, yeah, what's going on. Did I — ha! did I fall asleep? What was the thing, with the — did I pass out in Adelle's office? Wow, that is mortifying. Hey, we should get her softer carpets, lots of people fall down in there."

Topher thinks he's doing pretty well for someone who was unconscious 30 seconds ago, but Ivy doesn't look amused.

"When you passed out, Dr. Saunders re-checked your brainwaves. There was — there was a composite event from the experiment, only we didn't realize because..."

Topher doesn't like the sound of that.

"When you say 'composite event', do you mean 'composite event'? Because I'm pretty sure you were supposed to use a blank disk, yeah, I'm sure you did, because I would have noticed if somebody else were in my head."

"But you didn't," she says, making no sense at all, "because it wasn't someone else. It was you. You had — you had a copy of your own brain. It was in your desk drawer, I thought it was a blank. Topher, I'm so sorry! But it wasn't labelled, it was just like all the other blanks we use, I didn't realize!"

Topher laughs a little nervously. "You... you're pulling my leg right? I know what I have disks of, and believe you me, I do not keep copies of what's inside my head lying around, and definitely not in my bottom drawer."

"That's just it, though. It's _not_ a copy of what's inside your head. The disk we used — we found a reference number for it encrypted in the database. It took forever to crack your codes, by the way, but it was a copy of your _original_ brain scans. The ones... the ones you extracted three years ago before you swapped them for the version in your head. I'm so sorry, Topher, but I didn't know! We... we didn't know which one to put back, but Adelle said you'd suddenly gotten a lot better at your job around then, so we kept the... the version you made. The version the old you made. But we still have the backup! We managed to buffer it out, just — it was hard, because you'd hidden the records of what you'd done, so I'm pretty sure I separated out all the changes you'd made, but there were some things you were very cryptic about, so you'll have to help me check, make sure everything's back in place..."

She isn't even looking at him anymore. She's looking about five inches to his left, above his head, anywhere that doesn't risk meeting his eyes.

Mostly, Topher doesn't know what she's being so apologetic about. Obviously, he's the better version — maybe they'll have to double-check her work, make sure there are no traces of his old personality lying around in his head. He wonders what it was he got rid of to make himself better at his job — probably just anything that was cluttering his mind. He doesn't doubt it was a good trade, though, because his mind is clear, his mind is flying, he's ready to get back to doing the things that only he can do.

Ivy's worrying at her lip, probably ready to launch into another stream of apologies.

"Hey, no worries," Topher says. "I'm fine, here — I'm great. I'm better than great, I am the 100% new and improved model of me. What more could a guy ask for?"


End file.
